


Musing on Tragedy

by AllyMander



Category: Bleach
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dark, Depressed Kurosaki Ichigo, Depression, Good Aizen Sousuke, Kurosaki Ichigo Needs a Hug, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:07:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23762056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllyMander/pseuds/AllyMander
Summary: Trigger Warning!There is a successful suicide attempt in this story. And a twisted way of thinking, which is not healthy in any way or form!Abandoned by everyone he fought so hard to protect Ichigo is left alone. Quickly being consumed by his spiraling thoughts. One stormy night Ichigo could no longer take the blood staining his hands and makes a choice.He didn't expect to wake up, or wined up where he is. But he's no longer alone, and the hunger stops. Maybe he can carve out some happiness in his new existence.
Relationships: Aizen Sousuke/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 145





	Musing on Tragedy

Why was blood red?

Blades clashing once more, the vibration caused Ichigo’s arm to quiver, his bones aching. He was always aching; he was wondering if it would over stop. Maybe if Ichigo lowered his blade now it would, Aizen could surly stop the ache. Ichigo could never figure out what caused it.

He was starting to realize he never would.

Aizen had come alive during this fight, showing true emotions, fear, anger, confidence, pain.

Ichigo had shown nothing, dying this fight along with any hopes, dreams, and attempts at happiness.

Being one with Zangetsu was bitter, bitter in how peaceful Ichigo felt. His zanpakuto curling around them, as their strength reached levels not even Aizen could comprehend. Here in this moment everything aligned for Ichigo, his mind, body, and soul was in harmony. The truth of his linage was divulged, his true powers explained. Yet here he was, throwing that all away. To kill a man Ichigo barely knew, for a society he didn’t belong in, for a system he didn’t believe in.

Final attack not enough something in Ichigo broke when the voices in his head began to fade. Bare feet hitting the earth Ichigo walked forward as Aizen crawled to his feet. The man was everything Ichigo was not. With the last of his strength Ichigo reached out.

Why was blood red?

Ichigo couldn’t help but ask that question as he pulled the Hogyoku from Aizen’s chest. His actions surprised them both, yet Ichigo didn’t jerk away. No, his arms wrapped around the man as his lungs began to fill with blood. There was a smile on Aizen’s face, how could he be happy. He was dying. Does one find happiness in death?

Ichigo was slipping, he had been for some time, he was a child after all. A child sent to war; he wasn’t prepared to kill. Urahara didn’t speak when he arrived, simply took the still dripping Hogyoku from his hand. His face was grim, sad, Ichigo didn’t know why.

He would have asked Zangetsu what he thought, but he was already gone. Ichigo was alone, he didn’t know being alone was so cold. In that moment Ichigo ceased to ache, becoming numb to it all.

Months past and Ichigo watched as everyone drifted away, or rather pulled. Ichigo was too weak to hold on, his fingers freezing and slow. He watched silently as everyone walked away, one by one. He wanted to cry, scream, show some form of emotion. Ichigo couldn’t, for he had grown numb months ago. When his father forced him into the Dangai. Ichigo cried one final time when Zangetsu pierced him with his own blade. Zangetsu and the Old Man only wanted to protect Ichigo, and he ripped that away. Just like he ripped the Hogyoku from Aizen’s chest.

Blood stained his hands, no matter how hard Ichigo scrubbed he couldn’t wash it away. Blood followed him into his dreams. Ichigo would bolt awake with a scream tearing its way up his throat, sweat rolling down his cheeks. Yet no one came to his room, no one would offer comfort to a monster.

Hunger was the one thing Ichigo felt every moment of his lonely existence. Yet when he ate, all he could taste was ash. Ichigo may be hungry, but his appetite shriveled away. When the stares finally became to much to handle Ichigo moved away. Ichigo had never run from anything before, but there was a first for everything. His father normally would have called out the cowardice act, yet he helped pack Ichigo’s bags.

The sun was blocked by the clouds, rain making them heavy and dark. The streets were barren, people wanting to take cover. Ichigo walked out regardless, the thunder reminding him of a time where he felt alive. When steel clashed and his heart raced. Ichigo gazed up at the sky, dull amber eyes fluttering close as the first cool drop hit his nose. One became two, then three, soon Ichigo was drenched. Standing alone, rain soaking him to the bone, Ichigo screamed. No one came, for they couldn’t hear over the rolling thunder.

There was no reason to keep fighting, it took time for Ichigo to realize that’s what he was doing. Fighting for life when he had no will to live it. He had been abandoned, tossed away. He found no enjoyment in life, food still tasted like ash, sleep was impossible, Ichigo hadn’t spoken in weeks. Why bother when there was no one to listen.

Ichigo always found himself thinking back to his last fight, when Aizen came alive. Aizen’s brown eyes were rich, like melted dark chocolate. Until Ichigo snuffed out their light. Ichigo always wondered why Aizen smiled in the end, his blood feeding the earth. Ichigo’s mind never let him forget that smile.

Did death bring happiness?

Drenched Ichigo walked his hands stuffed in his pockets, face blank. He had moved into the city, yet he was in Karakura Town. Ichigo didn’t remember how he got there, but he knew what he was doing. A bottle in one hand, pills clicking inside with each step. Ichigo didn’t want this, he had asked for help, reached out with numb fingers. Every way he turned the door was slammed in his face. Ichigo understood now, he was only a weapon, and now he was broken. There’s no use for a broken weapon.

The cemetery was empty, but Ichigo expected that. Feet splashing in puddles Ichigo reached his destination. Fingers tracing stone Ichigo admired his mother’s grave, his final destination, his resting place. Leaning back against the stone Ichigo looked up watching the storm. Lightning flashed above and thunder roared, the storms always calmed Ichigo’s heart.

With the note safely tucked away in a plastic bag Ichigo opened his mouth, speaking for the first time in weeks, and for the last. His voice was broken like his mind, body, and soul. Ichigo didn’t know he was crying. The rain washed everything away as Ichigo said his goodbyes, he swallowed one last time.

Just like every other time he closed his eyes blood filled his thoughts.

Why was blood red?

And with that final thought Ichigo Kurosaki slipped away, alone, cold, and forgotten.

* * *

The rain had stopped.

He couldn’t explain why, but it had. Ichigo had wanted answers, his mind broken, he had hoped that they would come in the end. Slowly Ichigo opened his eyes and found himself lost in the never-ending sky. The moon was a sliver of light in the otherwise utter blackness.

The moon looked familiar. Had he seen it before?

So many questions.

_Maybe I can answer them._

A voice, shivers rolled down Ichigo’s spine and he wanted to moan, he hadn’t felt anything in so long.

_King?_

That name, Ichigo felt tears build as his mind began to clear. He had been in a fog for so long.

_Za-Zangetsu?_

Ichigo could feel the uncertainty rolling off this other half, he didn’t understand why. Again, with the questions. When was he going to get some answers?

Tucked away in the depths Zangetsu began to climb. From the depths he focused on the light, pale fingers reached out and it all came in a flash. A barrage of information, enough to leave one drowning. But Zangetsu was used to the rain, use to being submerged, it didn’t take him long to swim.

His King had been alone, tossed aside like trash. Unacceptable, Zangetsu would make them bleed. But for now, Ichigo needed to mend.

_Look around ya King, answers will come._

Claws flexing Ichigo’s golden eyes roomed the land, white sand expanding for miles. There was movement off in the distance, hunger drove him forward.

Blood once again staining his hands Ichigo opened wide teeth sinking into flesh. When the sweet, saltiness rolled over his tongue and down his throat Ichigo knew his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He hadn’t tasted anything but ash for so long, the source didn’t matter. Only the taste, soon all life around him was gone, not a piece left.

For the first time in years Ichigo felt full, and with a full belly came happiness. So, death did bring happiness. Huh.

And so Ichigo wandered the dunes of Hueco Mundo, his body taking permanent form as a Vasto Lorde. Zangetsu at his side Ichigo never once felt at odds, completely at peace. As a monster he use to hunt, a monster that the ones who abandoned him would strike down without a second thought.

They no longer mattered, something Ichigo and Zangetsu easily agreed on. For Ichigo felt once more, his fingers warm, heart light, and mind sharp. Each passing day, or endless night, Ichigo would find more answers.

There was no good or evil, Ichigo came to that decision during his last hunt. There was only the survival of the fittest, and Zangetsu was determined to put them at the top. Ichigo didn’t care either way, he simply wanted peace, something he figured he would achieve here, in the never-ending dunes.

Why was blood red?

Ichigo still asked that as he stood, licking blood from his talons. He had yet to draw his blade, Zangetsu cold at his hip, always in banki. The almost nonexistent shift in the air alerted Ichigo he was no longer alone. That time had come, a presence appearing behind him. Orange hair swaying in the breeze Ichigo’s white body moved with grace as he turned.

When thunder rumbled out over the horizon Ichigo’s world came to a halt. Melted dark chocolate swirling before him. Head tilted to the side Ichigo lowered his blade questions on the tip of his tongue. Yet he couldn’t ask them, voice long forgotten.

Even so Aizen smiled, causing Ichigo’s heart to race.

How?

Aizen had fallen, bled out in Ichigo’s arms. He had cooled, Urahara had to pull Ichigo away from the corpse. Yet here Aizen was, in all his glory.

For all the questions Ichigo held on his tongue Aizen had just as many. When Szayel picked up on a new Vasto Lorde the man didn’t think much of it. But when the beast continued to evade his men Aizen found his interest peaked. Now he was captivated.

Aizen had never seen his work finished. Ichigo hadn’t been himself in their final battle. The boy had been lost, numb. It was only for that reason Aizen had been able to slip away. Now he was thankful he did. For Ichigo was here alone, if death didn’t guide him to the Soul Society surly that meant they had turned on the boy. What fools.

Kyoka Suigetsu put away Aizen reached out, voice soft as silk. “Come, Ichigo.”

“Ichigo isn’t a dog, he’s a King.” Voice broken with an eerie tint Aizen was surprised, he hadn’t expected the boy’s inner hollow to speak. It wasn’t wrong of course, Ichigo was indeed a king. One Aizen planned to keep.

“My mistake, would you like to join me?”

Ichigo looked down at the offered hand, tilting his head to the side. Did he want to join Aizen? Zangetsu didn’t seem to mind, if Aizen kept in line. Coming to a decision Ichigo sheathed his own blade before stepping forward.

He thought about grabbing the offered appendage before thinking otherwise, he didn’t need to dowse Aizen in more blood.

Ichigo wasn’t surprised by the castle on the horizon, but when they entered Ichigo expected resistance when he walked alongside the pristine white walls. So many bends and turns, silence fell between the two monsters. Ichigo had no intention breaking it, doubting he could if he wanted.

His voice hadn’t touched the air since the night he died, he didn’t need his voice to speak to Zangetsu.

Standing before the Hogyoku wasn’t a surprise, nothing was really a surprise anymore. Ichigo rolled with the punches, he had learned to the day he ripped this little glowing gem from Aizen’s chest. He didn’t close his eyes when Aizen took the stone from its pedestal. Ichigo wasn’t afraid simply curious, he wondered what would happen now.

The loud crack of bone brought Ichigo back, holding up a talon Ichigo’s golden eyes watched as his armor broke away, revealing skin exactly like the walls around him. Bit by bit everything began to break away, Ichigo didn’t expect to feel so light. Warm hair still cascading around him Ichigo looked up, golden eyes shining brightly, his horns remaining on top of his head. The boy’s crown, Aizen mused.

Beautiful black marking decorated his cheeks and chest, before meeting at his hollow hole. Ichigo was perfection, oblivious to the emotions shining in his golden irises.

Hands reaching out Ichigo looked at his skin, for once there wasn’t a spec of blood. Looking back up Ichigo tilted his head to the side, examining the man before him, just like the other was doing to him.

Aizen wouldn’t be able to manipulate him. He wouldn’t be able to overpower him. As they stood now, they were on equal footing. Two Kings, gauging the other.

Ichigo couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to speak. But here he was, yearning to fill the silence. Lips parting, in order to speak, not to eat. Ichigo winced at his own voice, broken, barely above a shaky whisper. “Why is blood red?”

It seems Aizen continued to underestimate the boy, he expected the first words the boy uttered would be demands for an explanation. It seemed Ichigo didn’t care, he was simply sitting back and treating life like a ride. “I don’t know, there are many theories, but I don’t hold the definitive answer.”

Oddly enough that satisfied Ichigo, small smile ghosting his lips Ichigo stood before his once enemy. There was a time where he would have drawn his blade, his need to protect others clouding his judgment. Ichigo would have taken orders without a second thought. But Zangetsu was right, he was a King. Kings don’t take orders, they give them.

_We could seek revenge._

Zangetsu was still bitter of the past, Ichigo understood it, but he never took time to think it over. He feared what he would do, but now standing before Aizen something shifted. Aizen wasn’t giving some grand speech or attacking him. He wasn’t trying to manipulate or lie, Aizen was simply standing before Ichigo. Waiting for his next move, that never happened before. Ichigo was never given a choice, even when he first met Rukia Ichigo had no choice but to accept her blade. His hands were tied from the very beginning. There was no doubt in Ichigo’s mind if he turned to leave Aizen would allow it.

This man was supposed to be the embodiment of evil, why wasn’t he taking Ichigo’s freedom? Everyone else had. Had Ichigo been wrong about Aizen? It was to early to tell, but he was willing to wait for an answer. Ichigo wanted to know what the others would do if they knew he was alive. Would they rejoice? Or would they push Ichigo further away and into Aizen’s awaiting arms.

Ichigo laughed to himself in that moment, Aizen didn’t have to do anything. He could sit back and wait, for the ones Ichigo gave everything to protect would surly fail him again. Ichigo had been able to accept it once, when alone and oh so numb. But now, there would be no second chances. For Ichigo didn’t want to give it, and Zangetsu screamed against it. For so long he fought his other half, maybe it was time to listen, give Zangetsu what he hungered for.

Ichigo found a whole slew of new questions exploding behind his eyes, he planned to find an answer to every single one. The gleam in Aizen’s eyes indicated that he planned to help in that endeavor.

Why was blood red?

Ichigo didn’t know, but he had an eternity to figure it out.


End file.
